


Through the Secrets of the Night

by stellaxxgibson



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, MSR, Mutual Masturbation, Post-Episode: s07e04 Millennium, Post-Episode: s07e07 Orison, Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellaxxgibson/pseuds/stellaxxgibson
Summary: What if Mulder and Scully’s physical relationship started out slowly? One that began with a night of solace here, a quiet midnight feel up there? A relationship that they are too afraid to talk about; too afraid to vocalize because they’re terrified it will all change, will all go downhill and they’ll never be able to recover from it.What if they started being intimate and it’s so secret that they themselves deny it...
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 9
Kudos: 192





	1. The First Night

The first time they let it happen, they were in Delaware on a case. A tough one at that, more brutal than most. Three girls were dead, one killed practically under their noses as they chased leads that turned into dead ends. Mulder blamed himself, of course, tried to take a long drive through the rain and the mud to try to simmer down. It didn’t help. 

They had eaten dinner that night while neither of them spoke. Both of them too exhausted and scared by the events of the day - trying to find the answers and truth as to why those girls were being murdered and left on the highway like roadkill. When their dinner had been finished, they only uttered farewells of goodnight, clicked the adjoining door closed softly and attempted to sleep in their own beds after trying to scrub the day off their flesh by way of scalding shower water. 

Loneliness and desperation had taken control of them. Desperation to find comfort in the other. To finally just let go, to give in to the desire they wanted most. They had begged to feel anything but the numbness that encircled them because of that case. 

They were vulnerable. 

Glowing in a dim green light that read 3:04 am, she had barely been asleep, having tossed and turned for hours on end. The door had clicked open then, followed by the sound of quiet footsteps on tattered carpet. It hadn’t been until she felt his warm hands wrap around her belly, felt his hot naked chest through the tight camisole she wore over her back, that she actually registered he was really there. 

Neither of them had spoken, the only noise being the dancing trickle of summer rain against the roof of their motel and the sound of two heaving chests breathing in and out in fast pants. After what seemed like an eternity of stillness and warmth, he finally moved, glided his hands under her shirt and languidly up to her breasts to tease the undersides with his fingers. Scully’s breath hitched, her back arching just slightly into him in anticipation that caused her pulse to thump loudly in her ears. 

He had paused, asked for her silent permission, and she had given it to him in a quiet whimper of pleading. 

Mulder had smiled into her hair, drew her even closer in, his erection pressing against the small of her back - one he couldn’t help. She had hissed at the contact, at the feeling of him suddenly kneading her breasts and tickling the hard buds of her nipples with his thumbs. He kissed the back of her neck and teased his tongue along her spine, along the tiny scar that was etched there. He squeezed her breasts harder and felt her head fall against his shoulder as she tried to suppress a moan. 

Neither of them had wanted to stop. 

Neither of them did. 

Spinning around in his arms, she’d locked eyes with him as the moonlight bled through the curtains and as thunder began to rumble harshly. A spark of lightning lit up the sky, another loud blister of violent roars. She could see the need in his eyes, the need for her. 

As the next splash of fire lit up the sky, they suddenly drew together like a magnet; two opposites attracted. Their lips hot and soft as they crashed together with another blast of thunder. It had been safety, it had been solace. It had been the first time they’d kissed since his lips grazed hers on New Years when he told her the world hadn’t ended. 

Their mouths had tasted one another as their tongues explored. Kissed as the rain sizzled into a light foreshadowing trickle. It was delicate and intimate, their first time this way. 

Mulder had been the one to first break their lips, let his own explore the rest of her; her cheeks, jaw, and neck. He’d let his hands wander back up to her breasts, gingerly at first until he was ravishing her once more. Scully whimpered into his hair, thread her fingers into his dark wisps and nudged him down gently in encouragement.

She had needed more. 

Obliging very willingly, Mulder had hummed against her neck and lifted her top to fully expose her chest. He had taken his time with each breast, lapping at the hardened peaks and sucking gently, causing Scully to moan louder through her open mouth. Once he had slowed, given each breast the attention it deserved, he nibbled his way up each of her ribs, to her collarbone and jaw, until his lips met hers again. Kissing her over and over. It wasn’t until the alarm of her clock rang at 5:15, that they parted reluctantly for her to halt the buzzing, both of them panting. 

Finally, his breath had slowed down and so did hers, fuming together in hot feathery burst mere inches apart. They held each other in a tight embrace, neither of them saying words aloud as she turned again to let him spoon up behind her. 

They’d kept the air quiet as always until a small hitch in Mulder’s voice sent her heart pounding almost as quickly as it had been ten minutes prior. She noticed he’d starting choking back sobs, could feel warm trickles of tears on the back of her neck, slipping down her arm. And before she knew it, she had started crying too. 

Mulder had needed Scully. 

Scully had needed Mulder. 

They had finally broken down one of those last barriers together. The ones that kept them from being more than they wanted to be, more than they could  _ admit _ they wanted. 

He finally left her after the room began pinking with a sliver of the morning sun. After their sobs had finally turned into sporadic sniffles. He’d kissed the back of her head once and slipped back through the adjoining door to his room. 

She hadn’t wanted him to go but she understood. No matter how much she wanted more, she knew she’d regret it in the morning to some degree. That her brain would go back into Scully mode and overthink every single thing. She knew he’d feel guilty, too, like he’d pressured her into doing it. That was just who they were. 

It was never spoken about after that. Never once had they brought it up in fear of making it real; of making  _ them  _ real. In fear that once the veil evaporated, that it would be all too different, too late to turn back. No, that was too scary. They could be found out, split up and forced to work with other partners; realize they weren’t meant to be more than that, more than friends. It could even destroy their relationship entirely. No, they didn’t speak about it, just kept that one night a vivid and intimate memory between them. 

… Until one night had turned into two. 

Five weeks after their case in Delaware, Scully found herself in her another run-down motel just outside of Chicago. It was their first brutal out of town case they’d been assigned since Mulder had slipped into her bed that one warm summer evening. As she sat on the hard mattress in room number six, the one that was attached to room number five with nothing but a thin door between them, her mind wandered back to those hours of solace. To the feel of his moist breath on the back of her neck. 

The case they were now working on was gruesome, to say the least. So much so that Scully ended the day at half-past midnight after doing autopsies on two five-year-old boys. She hung her head as she finished and re-sterilized her instruments, as she washed a few drops of blood from her shoes. 

When she returned to her room, she knew Mulder was still out, wandering around with purpose on some hunch of his. So she tied her short hair up in a ponytail, bathed in practically boiling water before getting ready for bed and slipping into her scratchy sheets. 

She heard him come into her room around two a.m. 

Pulling the sheets back slowly, he tried to search the room for her eyes, but she kept them closed and smiled softly as the feeling of his warmth seeped through her bed. Mulder snuggled up behind her and ran his fingers in trails up her arm. Up and down, up and down like a metronome of calming waves. 

He unbuttoned her pajama top slowly, letting it get lost in the sea of blankets. He kissed her shoulder blades and back, played connect the dots with his tongue on the freckles that adorned her there. Her nipples tightened as the air conditioning tickled her naked breasts until his warm hands caressed them with a melting warmth. 

He ran his trimmed nails down the muscles of her abdomen, slowly making heat like a match sparking aflame. When his fingers found her bottoms, Scully drew in a breath and bit her bottom lip. She felt his fingers flutter their way in, past her panties, and still couldn’t speak at all. Just let her body speak for her,  _ to him, _ with more whimpers of pleading, with how wet she knew she was as his fingers slid through her lips. 

Mulder nibbled on the flesh of her neck, kissed the sensitive patch behind her ear and left trails of wetness by his tongue from her clavicle to her jaw. His fingers worked her clit slowly and sensually, trying to find a rhythm that she liked. It took everything in her not to grind her hips against him, maybe she did a little without noticing. He then circled his fingers briskly and with determination until she moaned with a sob lodged in her throat, coming against his friction as pleasure sizzled through every ounce of her body, shaking in his arms. 

Planting kisses all along her cheek, he removed his hand from her damp bottoms, settled it on her hip to rest as his fingers glistened with wetness. His lips found their way to her shoulder blades again and kissed them gingerly, too, as if trying to lap up every skin cell. 

This time when he stopped, she wanted to yell. To cry at the loss of contact and to tell him to stay. But she couldn’t. 

He left hastily this time, before Scully could fully catch her breath. He clicked the adjoining door closed and soon she could hear his deep moaning and the squeak of his bed until his snores began rumbling through that thin rectangle of wood. 

When morning broke, he was knocking at the door as she was slipping on her heels. They walked together to the diner across the street and had coffee and pancakes, talked about the case and their plans for Labor Day weekend. The night before was like a wet dream, never lost on the mind but too taboo to speak of. 

No, they didn’t talk about it. Maybe someday they will. But for now, they let themselves be together only between dampened motel sheets and through heavy pants in the dark safety of the night. In the memories of those two blissful evenings. Where they can be the Mulder and Scully that are in love with one another. Where monsters and X-Files and aliens don’t exist. Where they can let go, finally, through the secrets of the night. 

Through solace in each other. 

  
  



	2. As You Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t want to feel broken. I need you to make me feel whole.”

_ Come, my love, I'll tell you a tale _

_ Of a boy and girl and their love story _

_ And how he loved her oh so much _

_ And all the charms she did possess _

_ Now this did happen once upon a time _

_ When things were not so complex _

_ How he worshipped the ground she walked _

_ And when he looked in her eyes he became obsessed _

  
  
  


He’d awoken to the sound of her turning off the television as the credits rolled, felt her soft lips on his face, and never dared to open his eyes. He knew she was more affectionate when she thought he was sleeping, so he tried to keep his breathing heavy and even; his body still. Warmth surrounded him as she draped a blanket over his body and when she left the room, he still never dared open his eyes until he could hear her bathroom faucet run. 

Quickly unbuttoning his shirt, he tossed it to the floor and peeled off his shoes without the blanket leaving his body. He snuggled closer into it, into the sofa, too, and shut his eyes once more. The soulful tune of the song that had played on the television repeated in his mind as he drifted off to sleep. He repeated the lyrics, pictured him and his partner as he hummed about love. And right as he fell asleep, dozing as the smell of her encompassed him, he imagined a life much different than their reality. 

-

The central air chilled the room, waking her with goosebumps. Scully rolled over in her sheets, pulled them up to her chin and settled comfortably on her side, waiting for those few seconds before sleep was to take over again. She didn’t usually set the temperature so low, but when Mulder fell asleep on her couch after the two of them ate dinner and watched The Princess Bride, she had wrapped a blanket around him and kissed his temple - turned the thermostat to 68 to keep him comfortable, and got herself ready for bed. 

Things between them had been different since that first night in Delaware when he slipped into her bed and showed her just how much he needed her. How much he cared for her as he touched her with the utmost care. And though it was still too much to talk about, she let her mind wander sometimes. Let it imagine a world where they could be together without complications. Without the weight of the world on their shoulders. 

So she imagined. She closed her eyes tightly and pictured him as she truly wanted him.

_ I love you, Mulder. Stay. Stay and be with me forever.  _ The scenario played in her mind.

_ As you wish _ , he had told her, a smile the size of the moon on his face.

Just as sleep was finally settling over her relaxed and tranquil body, she heard his screams.

-

The pungent smell of sweat hung in the air, catching on the small fan blowing against his skin, though failing to soothe his rising temperature. The sofa beneath him trapped in heat, the blanket around his legs, too. And though he was dressed only in his work pants, his flesh was prickled with splotches of red; of the fear and terror that trembled through him. 

Gasping in gulps of air and clawing at his chest, his cries pierced the entire apartment, ricocheting off of the walls in screams of agony. With his eyes still closed and his body still half asleep, he was caught in a terrorizing limbo that haunted him with his worst nightmares. He saw his sister being taken, a bright light, his body paralyzed. He saw Scully lying in hospital bed after hospital bed after being abducted and attacked. The guilt he felt clenched tightly in his stomach; made him want to vomit. He saw the future of what could have been on a reel playing in his brain: of walking Samantha down the aisle at her wedding, of Scully having his bright-eyed red-haired babies. Of him marrying her on a calm and breezy beach as sunset unveiled the night.

His cries became louder as he saw blood trickle from her nose, watched as her body fell limply to the floor in death. 

But then - her voice... It was quiet and barely audible. But it was her, it was Scully. He felt her homely body embrace him, her gentle fingers as they ran through his hair, and immediately the pain began to lighten. 

She’s here and she’s alive and she’s whispering to him that everything will be alright. 

“Mulder it’s me, Scully. It’s okay. Can you hear me? I’m here, Mulder, shhh. I’m here.” 

He couldn’t quite talk, was still so wrapped up in his dream, but he tried. “Sc - Scully?” He felt her smooth hand cup his face, the other stroking his back.

“Shhh. Everything is okay. You had a nightmare, Mulder, but I’m here,” she whispered, pulling him closer. 

Finally, his senses grew more prominent and he started to settle more. He could feel her warm body embracing him tighter and caressing his skin, could smell her Scully essence: the coconut conditioner she used and the vanilla lotion on her hands. He could hear her words of comfort and then opened his eyes as she drew his face closer to hers.

“Mulder?” Her blue eyes pierced his and he knew everything was going to be okay with her by his side.

He cradled her jaw in his hands. 

“God, Mulder, you scared me,” Scully spoke again. She pulled him into another tight hug, gripping him as though he would evaporate right in front of her and disappear forever. “Are you alright?”

Mulder nodded as she pulled away and she gave him a faint smile. “Always when you’re here, Scully.” His voice was finally there.

He kissed her knuckles and got lost in the calm serenity of her eyes. 

The air suddenly turned thick and heavy, with hands on each other’s faces and mere inches between their mouths. He closed that small distance - just a millimeter in case she decided to back away - and could feel her hot breath against his lips. But then she didn’t pull away, she moved closer, too, until her mouth was against his in a small, loving kiss. It lasted only a few seconds but she smiled at him after and grabbed his hand, led him to her bedroom and tucked him back in. 

To her own bed this time. 

Scully’s back to his chest, they merged their bodies as close as they could and held each other silently until dawn broke through her cracked curtains. Both of them dozing off in the comfort of the other sometime shortly after he joined her. Mulder’s hand had been on the curve of her waist, Scully’s hand over his. He had nuzzled his nose into her hair and she had hummed in contentment. 

It had been silent but they both knew without words what happiness felt like.

-

When she peeled open her eyes, she noticed her body was turned into him. Her hand was on his chest and his arm was draped over her, his hand in her pajama pants cupping her bare bottom. She shifted slightly as that first instinct kicked in but settled back into him with a smile. Mulder woke from her movements and smiled, too, realizing where he was and who he was with. Who he was touching so intimately in the brightness of the morning sun.

Neither of them moved away. 

Scully played with the sparse hair on his chest and he caressed the skin of her bottom. Closing their eyes, they fell back asleep until Scully’s alarm woke them not twenty minutes later. She untangled from his body and he groaned. 

“Work, Mulder,” she told him, smiling lightly as she left the bed.

He sat up and ran his fingers through his bed head. “Thank you, Scully, for last night. It really meant the world to me that you --”

“Mulder,” she interjected. “I know - I want … last night was wonderful. But I --” Scully couldn’t quite put into words how torn she was about ‘them’. That he was her everything and that she never wanted to spend a day without him. But that the other part of her was screaming in logic, telling her that giving in to her feelings could inevitably cause irreparable damage to their relationship.

How could she tell him she wasn’t quite ready?

“Okay, Scully,” he smiled faintly. 

She nodded her head and closed the distance between them, kissing him delicately on the cheek. “I just…”

“I know.” Mulder kissed her forehead and caressed her back. 

She pulled away and then smiled before disappearing into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. 

Two steps forward, one step back. He knew she needed more time.

Mulder didn’t move again until he heard her shower start. Only then did he collect his clothes, dress quickly and head out the door. He needed to go home and get ready for work as well and he knew things would be easier if he gave her some more time to process everything. So he wrote her a note,  _ See you at work, Scully,  _ and left it on her kitchen table.

-

“Good morning, Mulder.” Scully walked into their office a few hours later and her mood was entirely unreadable.

“Morning, Scully,” he replied, studying her. 

She noticed the file on his desk and questioned him with her eyes before asking, “Where are you sweeping me off my feet now, Mulder? I can only take so much romance.” 

He chuckled and relaxed a little, pulling out their plane tickets and leaning in closely. “Feelin’ lucky Scully?” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


A few weeks later:

A yellow light feathered into the bedroom doorway through the bright bulb of her kitchen, casting small shadows across his face. She felt his warm breath on her cheek and his hands on her stomach, gliding his fingers up and down her bare skin. He looked so peaceful and content - a rarity on his face. Brows unfurrowed, lips turned up into a smile, he hummed quietly and happily in her ear. 

Feeling a sudden sense of urgency, Scully tore her sights from him for just a moment and let her eyes study their surroundings. She could tell she was in her bedroom by the delicate feel of the sheets below her, by the dip in her mattress that her lone body had carved there over the years. But something was different. Something was off. Her dresser stood untouched and the mirror still hung behind it in one piece. Her shelves were still in place. There were no shards of glass on the floor or… pools of blood soaking deep into the fibers of the carpet. Her heart began to race and she jolted up in bed. Her mind was frantically racing a thousand miles a minute until the serenity of his voice began to calm her.

“Scully? Scully, look at me.” Mulder’s hand cupped her cheek and she burrowed her face into the familiar warmth. “Lie back down, relax. Everything is okay, Scully. I’m here.” He soothed her panic and kissed her cheek softly as she relaxed back down next to him.

“Mulder, I’m - I can’t…” She tried to choke out words but they felt constricted in her throat.

“Shhh. I told you, Scully. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“What does that mean, Mulder? I don’t understand. What is going on?”

With the softest touch, his hands found their way beneath her pajama top to her breasts. “You don’t have to say anything,” Mulder whispered into her ear. “I know. I understand and I love --”

The sudden sound of a thud against the wall of her motel room made Scully’s eyes pry open. There were sounds of shouting that filled her ears, the sounds of a man and a woman arguing loudly through the drywall. And though they caused her initial wake, something else was startling her. The loudness of her own pulse was beating so heavily, her head felt dizzy. She didn’t know why but she had to get out of where she was, and quickly. As she sat up swiftly in bed, she swore she could taste a lingering of bile in the back of her mouth and the sting of fresh wounds on the flesh of her back. 

“Scully?” His voice was real this time and immediately she began to feel the panic drain. “Are you okay?” Her head was still pounding but she turned it slightly to see his darkened form move from its place on the small couch in the corner, to the edge of her bed. “Sc --”

Her finger rose gently to his lips to halt his words and he paused for a moment to look at her, her hair all askew, blood prickling the back of her white t-shirt. He grimaced a little and then kissed her finger, stood at the edge of the bed and walked to her to-go bag on the other side. Grabbing more gauze and tape, he sat back on the bed and slowly inched up the back of her shirt, seeking her permission. She merely shook her head and tried to stand to walk to the bathroom and do it herself, but the pounding turned into fuzzy static that blurred her vision and her limbs melted into hot mush. 

“Scully, please,” Mulder uttered as he watched her brace herself back onto the mattress. He held out a hand, knowing she couldn’t do this alone. He’d never let her do anything alone. 

After a moment of thought, she nodded, but couldn’t meet his eye.

Mulder slowly lifted her shirt -- or his technically. That white Knicks shirt he always kept in his own to-go bag. She’d needed something soft and loose to wear over her injured back and he had offered it to her willingly. He took a deep breath and lifted it all the way over her head so that her entire back was exposed. Scully let the rest of the garment slip down her arms and she tossed it lightly to the floor. It was no use to her now that it was spattered in droplets of crimson. Mulder sanitized his hands and changed the saturated gauze, replacing it with fresh ones before taping them into place. He checked the bandage on her face and the one on the back of her neck, noting they were still okay. He threw the soiled ones in the bathroom garbage and pulled his own shirt over his head to give as he walked back to Scully - who was still topless - sitting on the bed with her knees to her chest. 

“Here.” He held out his shirt and sat back down in the empty space next to her. Nothing else of hers would fit as loosely as his own shirts did. 

Scully closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, shook her head slowly and relaxed back into bed on her side, facing Mulder. She kept her lids closed and drew the sheet up just past her belly button, breasts exposed in the dim lamplight. They were plump and pink - soft from a lack of touch. 

She didn’t utter a single word. 

At the sight of her, neither could he. 

Taking a deep breath, Mulder summoned all of his strength and stood on his two feet. He knew what Scully needed. It hadn’t been that long since he’d first crawled into her bed and asked the same thing of her, but he just couldn’t let himself do it this time. She was fragile (though she wouldn’t admit it) and in a terrible place. It had only been twenty-four hours since she had been attacked in her home. She was wounded mentally, physically, emotionally, and he couldn’t bear to take advantage of her. He pushed his own self needs out of the way; the uselessness he felt after nearly losing her again when his profiler mind didn’t pick up on Pfaster’s intentions sooner. No, this wasn’t about him, though part of him wanted to seek out that solace. This was about Scully and her healing and though he knew exactly what she wanted, he walked back to the couch and plopped back down on the cushions. 

Silence engulfed the room until he heard her take a shaky breath. “Please, Mulder,” Scully whispered. It was all she could muster and she wasn’t even sure he could hear her. 

He took his own shaky breath. “I don’t - I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t, Scul --”

She interrupted him in a voice so full of sorrow and pleading, he swore it didn’t come from his partner lying a few feet in front of him. “You won’t. Please.” He stood and took a seat beside her again and she kept her eyes closed, pulled the blanket up to her chin as it quivered. “I need you, Mulder.”

It was the desperation that was ultimately Mulder's undoing; the way she begged him with the word ‘please’ that hardly ever left her mouth. Scully rarely asked him for anything, and there was no way he could be heartless enough to refuse her when she opened herself up enough to ask, no matter what it may be. She was vulnerable and needed him, and he was too in love with her to say no. 

He almost lost her again, ya know. 

_

Whenever the darkness burrowed itself back into her life, it was relentless. Like angry clouds hovering in dense black, casting shadows over the vulnerability below. And when that darkness inevitably crept back in like it always did, she turned to distractions every time; things that took her mind off of it, even if only for a moment. Before, it had been a glass of wine and a hot bubble bath, a new medical journal to dive deep into, new cases to fill the void. Work, work and more work. But now … now she had him. 

Now it was different.

She told herself over and over that he was just a way to fill in that dark void, tried like hell to convince herself that she wasn’t utterly in love with her partner. Because to her, being in love with him wasn’t an option when she knew there was a chance it could all come crumbling down around her. 

But his lips were like a life preserver, pulling her from crashing waves that drew her down into the black hole of nothingness. His hands felt like defibrillators, shocking her heart back into a steady rhythm as his skin melted into hers. And when she was with him in those nights of unspoken and unbridled passion, it was the most alive she’d ever felt. 

She couldn’t stop. 

_

“I need you, Mulder.” Scully could hardly recognize her own desperate voice as it trickled through her lips. She bravely opened her eyes, just a sliver, and saw him looking at her, his expression unreadable. 

“I don’t want to feel broken. I need you to make me feel whole.” She closed her eyes again and reached for his hand and felt the pressure of the room lift as he crawled onto the bed and slipped under the covers. 

Neither of them spoke as their conjoined breath heated the little space between them. They let the comfort of the other’s presence, the warmth of another body, begin to lull them into a peaceful limbo between sleep and consciousness.

Soon the proximity of him just wasn’t enough. She knew she needed more. He knew it too; even knew that  _ he  _ needed her. So when her hand stroked the scratchy surface of his five o’ clock shadow, he didn’t pull away. She began tracing his facial features; his full lower lip and the sparse little wrinkles of his forehead, and closed the distance between them with her lips on his. It was soft and slow; a few small kisses, gentle pecks one at a time. Until… 

Scully moved her hand to the back of his neck, played with the short hairs at the base of his skull and pulled him in closer. She parted her lips and teased her tongue against his; hot wet muscle to hot wet muscle. A whimper left her lips before he broke apart to look at her, wanting to make sure she was okay. She opened her eyes one last time and nodded her head as she crawled on top of him in one languid movement. 

Hands on hips, hands on chest, she kissed him fully until her lips were swollen and red. She ground her center into his and felt him swell beneath her. 

She was quick and needy and he was slow and gentle. 

Cupping her jaw, he locked eyes with her, urged her without words to slow down. She nodded again and rested her forehead against his as they panted together breathlessly. 

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. They watched the rise and fall of the other’s chest. 

She slid down slightly and kissed his, pulled his hands up to hers to fondle her breasts the way she knew he knew how to now. Moans puffed through the air as he cupped and pinched and she arched her back slightly at the feel of it, forgetting in that moment that scars were to begin forming there — that’s what she had wanted after all. 

“God, Scully, I --” His words were stopped with her lips on his. She shushed him and shook her head, opened her mouth as another moan slipped past. As Mulder pressed his bulge harder between her legs. 

They weren’t supposed to talk. Not during, not about it after. This was them and it was passion and distraction and release, but she couldn’t allow herself to fall even more in love with him as he whispered in her ear between hot, wrinkled sheets. 

Suddenly her left hand was bracing her weight against the mattress as she hovered over him. Her right hand scratched downwards, manicured nails to hard muscular abdominals, and slipped it eagerly into his sweatpants. She gripped him fully and felt the girth of him throbbing in her hand. Mulder moaned as she stroked him up and down a few times and sighed as her hand retreated as hastily as it entered. With quick work, Scully grasped Mulder’s hand and guided it down. With her small hand over his, they pumped up and down and he suddenly knew what she needed when her hand retreated once more, leaving his on his cock. 

Sitting up atop his thighs, she pulled his bottoms down a few inches. Licked her lips and watched as his hand made slow movements up and down, as his face contorted with pleasure. She pressed two fingers to his lips and he opened them with a groan. Mulder sucked her digits with ferocity, his hand still working himself to climax, and when she trailed her wet fingers inside her pajama bottoms, he thought he’d come right there on the spot.

“Ohhh.” Mulder couldn’t help but let that slip as Scully began to buck her hips slightly against her hand. She was masturbating on top of him and him below her and it was the single greatest moment of his life thus far. 

With her fingers working the apex of her sex, he could hear the wetness as she slicked it in circles. Could hear her moans of ecstasy and the quick inhale of her breath as her breathing sped up. 

“Ahhh,” Scully whimpered. She, too, couldn't help it. She grabbed her breast with her free hand and pinched roughly against her hardened nipple, pulling and twisting. Her eyes raked from Mulder’s pumping hand to his eyes and she saw that he was staring into hers. 

_ Too much, too much.  _

Scully looked back down just as Mulder let out one last and final grunt and watched as he spurt hot white liquid and came all over his stomach. 

That was all it took for her. 

With one final flick of her fingers, she shook as her thighs clenched around him and came as she watched his pool of semen begin to drip down his torso from her movements. Her cries of rapture came from deep within her chest; a release of more than just physical pleasure. 

When her body finally calmed, she withdrew her hand from her underwear and he scooped it right up, kissing the two fingers that just brought her to climax. She resisted his eye contact for a moment and then let them connect again briefly. He sucked her fingers back into his mouth and she saw nothing but desire and love in his eyes. 

Or so she thought she did. She wasn’t quite sure. 

Still keeping silent, Scully relaxed back on her pillow. Her back was to Mulder and she was on her side as to not irritate the wounds on her back. He shuffled closer to her but didn’t touch, just let her lay on one side of the bed with him on the other; close but not too close. 

He didn’t leave her bed this time.

_

Morning broke and as Mulder peeled his eyes open, he noticed the bed was already empty and the bathroom door was shut, light on but silent. He intertwined his hands behind his head and looked up blankly at the ceiling, hearing the water of the shower start. 

The past few days had felt like a dream: Him bringing Scully to a motel because her apartment was a crime scene, her insisting he get his own room and him refusing to leave her alone. They made some form of love on her motel bed and though he was willing to face whatever they were doing head-on, he knew she wasn’t ready. She could separate the physical from the emotional. Him not so much. 

Their time would come eventually. 

He heard the water shut off and not soon after, hissing sounds of pain. Mulder walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “You okay, Scully? Do you need help?” He hated seeing her like this - in pain that she couldn’t quite hide. 

The bathroom was silent, followed by a sigh and a soft and defeated, “yeah.” 

Mulder helped rebandage the wounds she couldn’t reach. There were bruises starting to darken along the back of her ribcage and he tried to block out what he was seeing; hoped beyond hope he didn’t hurt her, even more, a few hours prior. He grabbed her bag and his shirt off the floor and gave her privacy to get dressed. When she emerged a few minutes later, they both acted as if sleeping was the only thing that happened between them the night before. 

They watched television together on her bed until she couldn’t stand it anymore. Being antsy was kind of her thing. He handed her doses of Tylenol every four hours; he kept track down to the minute. She refused to take her prescribed pain killers. 

They took a walk down the road and ate brunch at a diner; ordered a plethora of food to feed their worn-out bodies - hers especially. They watched a baseball game on the fuzzy diner tv and walked the long way back to their motel, talking about old cases and avoiding all words connected to Pfaster, physical pain and sex. 

When late afternoon finally came, Scully received a call that her apartment was no longer being swept by the crime scene unit, so they packed their belongings and Mulder drove her back home in silence as her head rested against the car door and drool pooled around her sleeping lips. 

She let him stay that night and a few more after that. Always in her bed, she let him cuddle as close as her injured body would let him. 

And when Scully returned to work a few weeks later, it was like that night had never happened. At least not outside of their own personal memories, anyway. They watched magic tricks and basked in the California sun, ate ice cream on the Santa Monica pier when their case was finished. 

Just two partners and friends, saving the world one paranormal and spooky case at a time. 

… helplessly, silently, and secretly in love. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Jaime, Emilie and Michele for reading over and helping me with this!
> 
> Song: Storybook Love by Willy DeVille

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my betas.


End file.
